Page 33 of His Deadly Lies

Dropping on the edge of the bed, I kick my shoes off, peeling off the socks and unbuttoning my fly before flopping onto my back.

They say you’re only as young as you feel. It would be a cliche to say I feel like I have one foot in the grave. Normally I wouldn’t, but something about dealing with Mia today has me just a stride behind and struggling to keep up. If this is the quality of the game she plays when she’s been through a harrowing incident, then how well will she do when she’s got her full faculties?

I’m intrigued to see.

I’m pissed that I have to be on babysitting duty.

Almost twenty years in the business, and this is where it’s gotten me. One foot in the door and the other itching to follow wherever the pretty, pampered princess leads. Why?

What is it about her that hooks me?

It’s ridiculous and more than a little stupid. The kind of impulse that will get me killed or worse because it goes against everything I’ve learned, everything I’ve been taught to do.

Her face swims into my mind amid the haze of the liquor. Not smiling, no. She’s stunning when she scowls. There is something penetrating about the expressions she makes, even when they’re tempered with pure ice.

My cock gives a single twitch, and when I push myself to my elbows, staring down at my crotch, I’m already sporting a half chub.

Son of a bitch.

If this might get her out of my system, then it’s worth a shot.

Not to mention I’ve been so damn busy with work the past few weeks I’ve barely touched myself.

Already on my way toward a good drunk with half of the bottle of Jack down the hatch, I shove my boxer briefs down to my hips. My cock bursts free, bobbing and already purple-tipped.

I wrap my fist around the shaft the way I want to wrap it around the delicate column of Mia’s neck.

Fuck. She torments me. I slick precum along my shaft and work, my hand firm around the base and light around the head. Sensation builds, and my breath starts coming in gasps. It would feel better, so much better, to have her mouth there instead of my callouses. Or to see the way she handles me with her own delicate hand.

I’m ready to explode, and my balls tighten with a few more seconds of pumping. Soon enough, I’m shooting cum all over my legs, my teeth gritted as I work myself through completion. One day, I’ll do the same inside of her if it’s the last fucking thing I do.

Until both of us are undone and clinging to each other.

There’s a fine line between disgust and lust, and right now, I’m firmly straddling them both.

10

MIA

My sister Isabella is the middle child, but she’s also the loudest. Which has always gotten her whatever she wanted and made her Papa’s favorite. The moment she turns those round hazel eyes on him...the argument is over before it begins. She doesn’t even need tears.

She’s that good.

Right now, she’s sprawled on her belly, lengthwise across the bed, with her legs kicking in the air behind her. Her chin balances on her hands, and she glares at me as if somehow I’m the one responsible for whatever internal turmoil she’s got.

Even though she’s in my room. On my bed. Refusing to leave me alone when I asked her for privacy.

A fucking moment of peace before my babysitter is back and ready to mentally torture me.

“I just don’t get it!” Isabella exclaims. “Why are you the lucky one getting the hot heir? It’s not fair! Thank you very much. He is so blissfully hot he needs to come with his own warning.”

Isabella is bitching about Ricardo, and it takes everything inside of me not to tell her to just have at him. As if I actually give a shit about any hot heirs. Or heirs in general. Or hot men.

Right now, I could not care less.

I don’t know the man well enough to be attached, one way or the other. I only know that when I look at him…I don’t get the same sensations I do when I stare at his bodyguard. Not even close.

“There is going to be no leftovers for me when I have to get married off,” Isabella continues. “Or worse! Daddy is going to throw me at Vincent like I should be happy for your leftovers.”

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